


Wear the crown in another world

by vex



Category: Jonas Brothers
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Edgeplay, M/M, Nick is a little bit of a control freak, Sibling Incest, but alas, hints of D/s, needs a sequel with full-on kink exploration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-15 00:07:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19284010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vex/pseuds/vex
Summary: This whole thing between them feels like too much sometimes, too big and inevitable. Nick just needs to figure out how to have some control over it— and Joe.





	Wear the crown in another world

**Author's Note:**

> Written years ago for a fic exchange.

It was still pretty early in the night when Nick got the call. 

He didn’t say anything when he first picked up, too put off by the racket in the background, some song he didn’t recognize because Lisa and Jess were deliberately massacring the vocals. He could barely hear Joe breathing into the mouthpiece over that. Nick could tell Joe had been drinking as soon as he spoke. 

“Nick! I can hear you’re there. Nick. Nicholas J—” 

“Turn the music down.” 

After a pause, all the background noise was gone. 

“Can you hear me now?” Joe’s voice was all muffled, mouth too close to the phone. 

“Yeah, Joe.” He tried to keep his tone level, smoothed out. “What’s up?” 

Joe’s voice was normal again when he said, “Mom asked me to try making it home tonight.” 

They had a full day tomorrow. Nick didn’t know why Joe had bothered going out at all when he’d already spent the night before with the girls. “This is you trying?” 

“Nick,” Joe said, drawling it out, half exasperated, half repentant. “Guilt-tripping won’t make me any less...” He paused. “Tipsy.” 

“But it might help you learn.” 

“You should be helping me decide what to do. Should I stay or should I go?” 

In the background, Jess and Lisa started singing The Clash. 

Nick rolled his eyes. 

He didn’t understand why Joe had to waste the few nights they had at home this way. Nick knew what Lisa and Jess got up to in their spare time. He couldn’t really pass judgment on that because they were their own people, nearly twenty-six. But at the same time, their age was part of the problem. He just honestly didn’t know what they wanted with Joe. 

Nick made the decision to go get him. 

—

He felt like the disapproving little brother buzzkill as he stood in the middle of Jess and Lisa’s hotel room, waiting for Joe to get his boots on. 

Jess tried to make small talk. Nick tried to be receptive. He was always friendly to both girls, but he didn’t really click with them. Not the way Joe did. 

Joe was taking forever to get his jacket on, kept missing the sleeves, so Nick went over and took it from him, helped him into it. 

Joe turned then and smiled at him, his hair all mussed up. There was some color smudged on his mouth—the same shade Lisa was wearing on her own lips. 

“Hold on,” Nick said, swiping at Joe’s soft bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, smearing the red tint away. It came off easily, glossy and cloying, giving way the flushed pink of Joe’s mouth underneath. Joe was quiet, breathing hot against Nick’s skin. 

When Nick pulled away, Joe licked his lips, looking at Nick’s mouth like he did sometimes. 

“Let’s go,” he said, and Joe nodded. 

The good-byes went on longer than Nick thought necessary, Joe promising the girls he’d try to see them one more time while they were all still in L.A. and hugging for too long. 

 

Nick had known there wouldn’t be many cameras outside, if at all. He clamped a hand on Joe’s shoulder and tried to hustle him past the couple of guys who were there, hurry him from the hotel’s front door to the SUV. Joe kept his head down, ducking out of the way of the flashes and pretending not to hear the questions being called out to him. 

In the car, Joe kept saying, “Sorry,” to Nick and to the driver. 

They were dropped off at the house and Nick managed to get Joe into his room before they could be intercepted by their parents. 

Joe sat down on the bed without being told and Nick went to knees to unlace Joe’s boots and drag them off, all while Joe petted at his curls. When he got back to his feet, Joe stood too. 

“Are you mad at me?” Joe asked, looping his arms around Nick’s waist, hugging himself to Nick’s front. “I hate when you’re mad at me.” 

“I’m not,” Nick said. His hands hovered briefly and then settled on Joe’s sides. He could smell alcohol and perfume clinging to Joe’s shirt, his hair. 

Joe’s chest was starting to rise and fall a little faster against his.

“Good,” Joe murmured, “that’s good,” and then he turned his head, his lips skimming against the sensitive skin of Nick’s throat.

The feeling Joe’s five o’clock shadow and the damp heat of his slack mouth made Nick take in a sharp breath. 

“Joe,” he said quietly. 

Joe’s hands started roaming, pushing Nick’s shirt up in back and skimming fingertips down the curve of his spine. 

The only light in the room was coming from the hallway, door ajar, and the fact that anyone could walk by should have made Nick push away and put Joe to bed. If the overhead light had been on, he probably would have, but the darkness made it easier for him to stand there and let it happen. 

“I’m not just doing this because I’m drunk,” Joe told him, voice just above a whisper. 

“Joe,” Nick said again, more firmly this time, his hands tightening on Joe’s sides. 

Joe’s mouth opened against Nick’s pulse point, teeth dragging across the skin when he pulled away just far enough to mutter, “We should—” 

He tried to get closer and Nick staggered, keeping them both upright. Joe didn’t seem to notice. 

“You know what I’m talking about, I know you do,” Joe said. He yanked at Nick’s shirt collar, baring skin. He put his mouth there, wet, threatening to bite. 

Nick forgot to breathe for a second, feeling caught out, like he was the one who’d done something wrong. He was having trouble keeping up with Joe’s words, Joe’s hands. 

Joe pressed their hips together and Nick could feel that they were both reacting to this.

Joe whimpered, “God, we should,” and that was enough to spur Nick into action, make him put space between them. 

Joe grunted when Nick pushed him down on the bed, forcing him to lie down.

“C’mon,” Joe groused, but he rolled over onto his stomach anyway, burying his face against the pillow. 

By the time Nick went for a glass of water and put it at Joe’s bedside, Joe was asleep. 

—

Nick was hunched over his laptop, trying to concentrate, keep what happened the night before off his mind.

Joe came over and dropped himself next to Nick on the couch. When Nick didn’t say anything or look up, Joe ducked into his line of sight, made Nick keep his eyes on Joe’s as they both sat up straight.

Joe was grinning as he said, “Hi.” 

Nick felt his lips quirk into a smile. 

Joe had been weird all day—trying too hard to be normal, roughhousing with Frankie and getting everyone’s attention with stupid tricks, alternating between bickering with Kevin and trying to hug him afterward. 

Nick had been watching him the whole time, last night replaying in his head like a loop, compulsive. 

Joe was quiet towards him most of the day, but they hadn’t really had any time alone, so there hadn’t been an opportunity to discuss that, if they were going to. Nick had planned to leave that up to Joe. 

Now that they were by themselves, Nick wasn’t sure he would be okay with talking about it after all. 

After about ten minutes of Joe silently looking over Nick’s shoulder, he sighed against Nick’s ear and said, “Why do they say, ‘Eat your heart out’? What does that even mean?” 

Nick shifted away so he could look at Joe. “What?” 

“You know, that saying. I know what it _means_ , but where did it come from?” 

Nick gestured to the computer, offering up the internet, but Joe just shrugged like it wasn’t worth the effort to look it up. Nick went back to reading. 

“Because I’m pretty sure you can’t eat your own heart out,” Joe said a few moments later. “You know?” 

When Nick looked up again, Joe tried biting at his own chest. He looked really stupid and Nick couldn’t help but laugh a little, shaking his head, and Joe leaned back, pleased. But then his expression settled into something more neutral and he said, “Sorry about last night.” 

Nick knew he wasn’t talking about the drinking. 

Joe didn’t seem all that remorseful though. The look on his face was more appraising than anything else, like he was trying to read Nick’s expression, gauge. 

Nick realized then that Joe was trying to give them an easy way out of this. Nick could shrug it off and say, “Yeah, I can’t believe you let yourself get like that,” and they would pretend it never happened, blame it on the inebriation. Maybe that was the whole reason Joe had gotten halfway to trashed in the first place. 

Nick could end this now, clean and simple. The possibility was right there. 

He swallowed hard and said, “We both know you weren’t that drunk,” not even sure why he was saying it. 

Joe nodded shortly, a little smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, this hopeful look on his face. Nick had to turn away when his heart started thudding anxious in his chest. 

—

The next few days were weird. 

Their mom wanted to hang out because they were to set to go on tour again soon and, even though she was going with them, they never got to hang out much as a family when they were traveling. Nick was fine with that because he didn’t get to spend enough time with her or Frankie as it was. Joe and Kevin seemed to have the same idea. They all watched movies together or went shopping or helped her around the house. 

It was so familiar and domestic that it made Nick feel strange, guilty, imagining how upset his parents would be if they found out about things that hadn’t even happened yet, wondering if they would try to blame Joe for it because he was older. 

A couple of those nights, Joe came up from the side and hugged Nick roughly and asked if he wanted to stay in Joe’s room. Nick would shake his head, chest expanding with his breaths under the band of Joe’s arm, and he’d say he wanted to sleep in his own bed while he still had the chance. 

Joe would hum some noncommittal sound and wander away. 

—

The day before they left, Joe cornered Nick in his room. 

“Are you gonna be this awkward when we’re on tour? It’s like you’re going through puberty all over again.” 

“It’ll be fine,” Nick said, wanting to add that he was always more professional than Joe, but he didn’t really feel like getting into it right then. 

Joe put his hands on Nick’s shoulders, fingers digging into the muscles. “Yeah, you’ll be good,” Joe agreed. 

Nick’s eyes went closed, turning his head away from where Joe was standing right in front of him, looking into Nick’s face. He tried to shrug Joe off, but Joe just sighed, invaded Nick’s space even more. 

“You’re being so weird about this,” Joe said, like he was amused. “It doesn’t have to be weird.” 

Nick laughed, humorless and abrupt, and looked up at him.

“It is weird, and it’s— _bad_. This is pretty bad, just thinking about it.” 

Joe said, “It could be good,” quietly insistent. His eyes dropped to Nick’s mouth. “If you would just…” 

Joe’s hand curled around the back of Nick’s head, dragging Nick forward as he leaned in and pressed their mouths together. It was forceful and brief, almost violent, more of an assertion than a kiss, like they had to get that out of the way before they could do anything else. 

Joe tore away and heaved a breath, looking at Nick, heated. Nick touched his fingers to his own mouth, saw Joe track the movement. 

They were both startled away from each other when a loud, two-beat knock came at the door. That was always the cursory warning Frankie gave before he sauntered right in. 

He had a Wii controller dangling from his hand. He stopped short when he saw both of them just standing there uneasily next to the wall.

“What’s going on?” he asked, suspicious. 

“We were talking about how nosy you are,” Joe said. 

“Nuh uh,” replied Frankie, rolling his eyes. Then, “Were you really?” 

Joe said yes, teasing and entirely nonchalant, but Nick barely paid them attention, mouth feeling weird on his face, ears buzzing with the unpleasant adrenaline rush of almost getting themselves caught. 

—

In the first city of the tour, they were standing in the hotel lobby getting ready to go up and Dad was on the phone with whoever made all their advance reservations. He held the phone away for a second and asked Nick if he and Joe wanted to keep rooming together during the later tour dates. 

Nick looked over to where Joe was talking to one of the unimpressed bellhops, trying to get him to crack a smile, and said yes. 

—

When he really considered it, he knew there was all this want in him, vague but overwhelming. If he tried to think about it any further than that, he always hit a weird mental block before all that need could twist itself into something more explicit. He could feel it was there once he realized, though, urge lingering beneath the surface, all these nameless things he wanted to do to Joe. 

It got him flustered if he thought about it too much, unsettled, wondering how yet another anomaly had happened to him. So he tried not to think about it at all, even though he knew Joe was waiting for something to happen. Day to day, around other people, it was pretty much business as usual between them. But sometimes he could practically feel Joe’s anticipation. 

\-- 

It wasn’t until the third stop of the tour that they were idle enough for something to happen. 

Nick was sitting at the end of an overstuffed loveseat in their hotel, notebook in his lap, trying to write. They should have been getting some rest because they had a show tomorrow, but the jet lag was throwing them off, messing up their sleep schedules. 

Joe was watching the tail end of a movie. The credits hadn’t even rolled before he came over, sat down facing Nick, his leg folded under him, almost hovering over Nick. 

He took Nick’s notebook and tossed it onto the end table. 

Nick shifted into the corner of the loveseat, rubbing his palms on his thighs, denim thin and soft. He could already see where this would be going if he didn’t get up now, but he couldn’t work up any momentum. 

“I was writing.” 

“We’re supposed to be sleeping,” Joe reminded him. 

Nick wet his lips, dry from pulling in quick little breaths through his mouth. “So go to sleep.” 

“I wanna do something first, bossy.” 

“Joe,” Nick said warningly, heartbeat picking up already. 

“It’s okay,” Joe soothed. 

Nick closed his eyes. He could feel Joe getting closer, both of them breathing hard and they hadn’t even done anything yet. 

Joe kissed him, just a press of their lips, but it wasn’t brutal and quick like last time. This was drawn out, easy for how impossible it seemed, and it made Nick’s mouth feel too sensitized, tinged with heat. 

They broke apart. Nick kept his eyes closed. 

Joe leaned in again, lips barely brushing against Nick’s, their bodies held tense and mouths pliant, parted against one another. They were suspended like that for a moment and then Joe fit them closer together, his tongue slipping into Nick’s mouth warm and wet and slow. Nick let it happen, let himself register the hot shock of sensation, Joe’s tongue pushing against his, tentative. The kiss was soft, but the feeling of it hit Nick harsh and sudden, going feverish under his clothes, arousal flooding through him too readily. He roughed Joe away, pulled them apart. 

Joe just looked at him, lips red, and he tried to get at Nick’s mouth again, but Nick held him off. Joe groaned, leaning all his weight against the back of the couch, burying his face against his arm. “ _Nick_ ,” he said, more frustration packed into that one syllable than Nick had ever heard from Joe. 

Nick could see it, Joe’s jeans tented out in front. 

Joe got up and went to the bathroom and Nick sat there until his breathing evened out, trying not to think about what Joe was doing right then. 

—

During the show the next evening, right in the middle of a song, Joe came over and threw his arm across Nick’s shoulder, casual, like it belonged there. Nick looked up, saw Joe’s mouth all close and his eyes narrowed, intense. 

He knew Joe hadn’t been trying to get to him, just being how he always was, but it still made Nick falter, almost miss a chord. Nick got kind of angry at himself for being thrown off by such a simple little thing. 

 

Later that night, they got into their separate beds. 

Nick tried to force himself to relax, let the night soak in. Despite that one moment, it had been a great show, a great audience too, but all he could think about was what had happened the day before. 

“Joe,” he said into the darkness, and there was a long silence after that where words should have been.

He felt tense and irrational for it, like he was anticipating something he’d had years to ready himself for, worried for no good reason. 

He finally settled on, “Goodnight.” 

“’Night,” Joe said, content. “Love you.” 

Nick let out a breath and said, “I love you, too,” because he knew that he did even though he wasn’t sure what exactly it meant with them anymore. 

—

For a while after that, Joe got a little more aggressive. Not in his tactics so much, just in general. He was rough with Nick, wrestled with him all the time—hugging him one second and digging his fingers the next, shoving Nick so that he went unsteady on his feet.

Even though it wasn’t anything new to them, Nick thought Joe would try something nearly every time, but they’d just end up staring at each other before pushing away. 

Nick finally hit his threshold one day when Joe sneak-attacked him, tackled him onto the bed. They started grappling, breaking into a sweat with the exertion. Nick went half-hard in his jeans from the physicality of it, energy working him up. It happened to both of them on occasion and usually wasn’t a big deal, but this time Nick felt something like anger, hot and violent, making his teeth grit. He wasn’t angry though. He was just really close to _frustrated_. 

He got Joe underneath him, pinned him hard and bore down on him, looking into his face. Nick's knee came up between Joe’s legs, thigh pressed right up against Joe’s dick. 

“Oh,” Joe said quietly, blushing high across his cheeks, eyes going half-lidded. 

Nick fisted his hands in the fabric of Joe’s shirt. His pulse picked up, knowing they both liked it this way. They were always doing this—Joe provoking Nick, wearing away at his cool detachment until Nick went all in and turned it around on him. Joe always gave up so willingly once he had Nick’s full attention. It was such a weird feeling, the realization that this stupid game they play might go deeper. 

This kept happening to Nick lately. It was like a light had been shed on everything he and Joe did together, all their little interactions, the way they worked together. None of it seemed as simple as it used to be. 

Nick still didn’t think he could do it. He couldn’t change them like this. 

He saw Joe’s eyes go unfocused, dark. It made his dick swell even harder, knowing he could do this to Joe. 

Joe’s hips started rolling, seeking friction, and Nick said, “Stop—stop making me want to.” 

“You already want to,” Joe said. “I don’t have to make you.” 

Nick frowned. He hated being indecisive about anything and it probably wasn’t fair of him to keep wavering, going back and forth—it was maybe messing with Joe’s head the way it was definitely messing with his own, but he deserved some slack here. Joe made it sound so easy when it wasn’t. 

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Joe asked softly, something almost like sympathy in his voice. “You can have—” 

He couldn’t have Joe laying it out like that, making it all seem horribly uncomplicated. He let go and shifted off of Joe, onto his back on the bed. When he realized his dick was tenting out the front of his jeans, he rolled onto his stomach. 

Joe sat up a little next to him, hand smoothing down Nick’s back.

“It’ll be good,” Joe murmured. “You know it will.”

His hand slid further down, grasped at Nick’s hip and pressed down, making Nick’s hard-on grind against the mattress, head of his dick sensitive against the cotton of his briefs. Joe did it again and the pressure was good, made Nick groan and push Joe away. 

Nick was the one to lock himself in the bathroom this time. 

—

Nick felt like things should have been fundamentally different between them with all this new baggage, weird and painfully awkward and uncomfortable. But they weren’t, especially now that they were just getting back into the rhythm of touring again. 

Joe was the same as always—replying to things with, “That’s what she said,” at moments that rendered the entire conversation nonsensical, lightly mocking paparazzi from the safety of their SUV, doing really inaccurate impressions of the eleven o’clock newscasters in whichever city they were in at the moment. 

The only time Nick ever felt uneasy around Joe was when he said something incredibly ill-advised during an interview, and even then, Nick got over it pretty quickly. He lived his life having to monitor everything he said and Joe was the only person Nick could really talk to without feeling judged, or having it reported to Mom and Dad, like Kevin was known to do. And Nick was okay with that. He was sure he’d still feel most comfortable with Joe even if he had a thousand other people to confide in. 

There was tension between them now, definitely, threatening to grow and break, but he tried to ignore it—had to, with the way their lives were. He didn’t have the mental energy to worry full-time about this new thing between them, not when they had to work together to keep their routine running smoothly, making each other laugh at stupid little things, helping one another stay sane. 

So it was still pretty much the same for Nick when they were out in the real world, having Joe tucked against him in front of a wall of cameras and flashing lights or sharing the cultural whiplash of jumping from one country to another. And there was still that elation he got from the rush of being on stage with his brothers. That never changed. 

It was just when things were momentarily quiet, when he and Joe were alone or when Nick had a second or two to think that it all came to the surface again. 

 

He started thinking about Joe when he jerked off. 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about Joe in that context before. When he was younger and Joe started telling him about making out or getting under a girl’s shirt for the first time, Nick would think about that, picture Joe with them. 

Usually it was a quick rub-out, letting himself have just enough sensation to get off so he could settle down and get to sleep, but he was getting to the age where he could wait a couple of days if he wanted to, let it all build up. He liked seeing it, how much of a load he shot after going without for a day or two, evidence of how well he could hold off. It was always worth it and he came harder like that than when he did it everyday. 

Joe was messing all of that up though. Nick couldn’t hold back as well anymore, a lot of his downtime spent thinking about what was happening with them. He was a little annoyed with himself for being unable to keep his mind off it. It got him all pent up, building until he had to do something about it so he could actually _think_ and concentrate on other things. He felt weird afterward, like he should have more willpower, but he figured that getting it over and done with was better than dwelling on it. 

He was trying to get it out of the way one morning even though they had to leave soon. Joe was downstairs in the hotel lobby, so Nick sprawled out on Joe’s unmade bed, pushed his shirt high up around his chest so he wouldn't mess up his clothes. 

He unbuttoned his jeans and touched himself through his briefs, started to fill out as soon as he got a hand on himself. Nick rubbed at his dick through the cotton, feeling it get bigger, groaning as he hardened up. He tugged the waistband down, held it out of the way with his tucked thumb and wrapped his other hand around his cock, stroking, eyes gone closed. 

He had all these half-formed ideas that had never really fleshed themselves out because he always came too fast. He still thought about Joe with girls, thought about telling Joe what he was allowed to do to them. He thought about letting Joe see him like this, but not letting him touch, knowing how much Joe wanted— 

Nick went at it quick, hurrying towards the finish, gave himself so much sensation that it made all his muscles tense up, made him come all over his bare stomach. 

Recovering, he breathed out hard, already feeling different, less wound up. He cleaned up and tried to pull himself together so he could go downstairs. Looking in the mirror didn't help. There was an obvious flush to his cheeks that just made him blush harder when he saw it. 

He was closing the room door just as Joe walked up. 

Joe took one look at him and drew closer. He brought his hands up to cup Nick's face, palms cool against hot skin.

"Man, you’re all flushed. What’s wrong?” he asked, suddenly all concern. "Are you okay?"

One of Joe’s hands slid back, fingertips kneading lightly at Nick’s curls sticking damp to the nape of his neck. 

Nick tried to step back, looking away. He wasn't used to having Joe in his space, touching him so soon after.

"I'm fine," he said firmly. 

And then Joe got it, realization flashing across his features. “Oh,” he said, smiling lewd and swaying closer, breathing in like he was trying to smell Nick. 

“We should go,” Nick said. 

“Yeah, we should,” Joe agreed. “If you’re all done now.”

He tousled a lingering hand through Nick’s humid-tight curls, a move meant to rile a little brother, not some tender display of affection and intent. 

It was getting harder for Nick to tell the difference with Joe these days. 

—

Times like that, Nick could feel really feel it, the vague new changes to their relationship. But he wouldn’t let himself do anything about it, so it all stayed undefined, open-ended. Nick kind of hated the insecurity of it, even in those little moments, so used to knowing exactly where he stood with Joe. 

He couldn’t keep up like this, the way they were right now. 

—

Another couple of cities and a couple more shows and Nick was grateful everyday that he was getting to do this, no matter how much the lifestyle took out of him sometimes. 

Their hotel room this time had a balcony and Joe had been out there a lot since they’d checked in, talking on the phone or taking pictures with his zoom lens of the unsuspecting people on the street or just sitting quietly, like he was when Nick went out there one evening.

The sky was tinged pink with sunset and it was breezy out, feeling in the air like just before it storms, but the only clouds to be seen were the ones layering low near the horizon. 

When Nick came out, Joe smiled up at him. He looked tired, hadn’t slept much the night before. 

Nick sat down in the other chair and looked out at the skyline. He tried to relax, be inactive for a little bit, but that wasn’t something he’d ever been very good at. There was always something to be done, something to work on. He stayed where he was anyway, mind going. 

They sat there quietly for a while, until the sky went dark-toned like a bruise. 

Nick eventually took a breath and said, “Do you think—” but he stopped when he looked over at Joe. 

Joe was asleep, half slumped in his chair, head tilted against the back. Nick stood and went over to him, shaking Joe gently and getting him to his feet, taking him inside. 

When they got to the bed, Joe turned and put his arms around Nick. Joe was always affectionate when he was sleepy, or when Nick was only half-awake, putting his hands on Nick’s hot skin and stealing hugs while Nick was pliant, still out of it. 

“Thanks,” Joe said, arms loose around Nick.

“You’re not in bed yet,” Nick pointed out. 

“You wanna hug me in bed?” Joe mumbled against his neck. “Hugging in bed is called something else.” 

Nick laughed, airy, barely audible. “Lie down, Joe.” 

Joe fell heavily onto the mattress, wrestling with the blankets until they were sort of covering him. He yawned big and closed his eyes and Nick was still standing there for some reason, watching. 

“’M’tired of waiting,” Joe said quietly. 

“I know,” Nick told him, but Joe was already snoring softly. 

—

Nick was getting ready for bed the next night, towel drying his hair and brushing his teeth, when he heard dragging and scraping sounds from main room of the suite. 

“Joe,” he called, but only got more of the same heavy noises in reply. He wondered if Joe was somehow under the delusion that his bed would fit on the balcony and he could camp out there. 

He saw what all the commotion was about when he came out of the bathroom. Joe had pulled the long table near the front door to the middle of the room and was lying under it, lots of pillows cushioned beneath him. 

Nick stopped, head tilting to look down at Joe. “What are you doing?” 

“Hey, put a blanket over the table,” Joe said. 

“You’re kidding me.” 

Joe just pointedly snuggled into the pillows. 

Nick gave an exaggerated sigh and got the white duvet from Joe’s bed and threw it over, pulling and pushing at it until it was covering the legs of the table, blocking Joe in completely. 

“Awesome,” came Joe’s voice from underneath. Nick just snorted. After a moment Joe said, “Are you coming in or what?” 

Nick crawled under and let the blanket fall back down, stretching out on the pillows next to Joe. 

“This is ludicrous,” Nick told him. 

Of course, that prompted Joe to start singing the radio edit of an old Ludacris song, making up the lyrics he couldn’t remember. When he got to, “Backseat, windows up, that’s the way we like to—” Nick had to cover his mouth to get him to stop.

Nick could feel Joe’s lips against his palm and then Joe turned his head towards him, leaving Nick’s hand to rest against Joe’s cheek. They were close, radiating body heat, nearly sharing breaths with faces less than a foot apart. 

“Don’t like that one?” Joe asked. “I’ll take requests.” 

“I’ll take a raincheck,” Nick replied. 

“You sure? I could sing Pizza Girl.” 

Nick took his hand away, burying his face against the pillows. “Nooooo,” he said. He lifted his head again, not quite suppressing a smile, peeking at Joe. He’d left a bedside lamp on, but little of its light was getting through the blanket hanging down all around them. He could still see Joe’s face through the dimness though, grinning over at him, pleased. 

Nick reached out to slip Joe’s glasses off and set them aside, mumbling, “Can’t sleep with these on,” because Joe had once snapped the arm off a pair doing that. He excelled at breaking things even when he wasn’t awake. 

Nick cradled his hand over Joe’s cheek again. Joe just blinked at him, trying to keep his eyes focused. They fluttered closed when Nick gently thumbed at the lashes, feeling the soft give of them against his skin. He moved his hand down Joe’s face, thumb catching at the corner of Joe’s mouth, and cupped his fingers loosely over Joe’s jawline. 

Joe ducked his head forward, his lashes lowered and a soft smile curving his lips, kind of shy in a way he never was with Nick. 

Nick let Joe tuck his body in closer, his hand curling around the back of Joe’s neck. 

 

The sound of Kevin’s voice made Nick jerk awake. He was disoriented, brain trying to catch up, and Joe was molded to his side, warm, arm halfway up Nick’s shirt. 

“What are you guys _doing_?” Kevin asked. 

Nick sat up quick and hit his head on the underside of the table, Joe’s arm going slack and sliding down his body before Joe roused, rolling onto his back. Nick panicked for a second and then he realized that all Kevin could see was Joe’s socked feet sticking out from beneath the blanket. 

“We’re up,” Nick called, voice rough. 

There was a pause. “You’re sleeping under a table.” 

“We _were_ ,” Joe corrected, indignant. 

“Well. Wake up call.” 

Joe yawned and said, “Thanks, Kev,” less resentful this time. 

Kevin left and Joe rolled over onto his side again, sighing. 

Nick let them lie there for another five minutes before getting them both up and moving. 

— 

The Q & A’s they were doing lately were all pretty much the same, talking about the tour and Nick’s side project and Kevin’s wedding. 

The one they had that day touched on those things briefly before getting right into their personal lives. 

Sometimes Nick could tell that the interviewer hated having to ask those kinds of questions as much as he hated answering them. This was not one of those times. 

“So, Nick, you know what I’m going to ask. Any girlfriends we should know about?” she said, angling the mic towards him.

He almost took it from her before he realized she wouldn’t have one for herself. “Um,” he said, “I’m just focusing on the tour right now, and like I said, in a few months my solo album—” 

“So you’re not even looking?” she asked. 

“No. I’m happy with what I have right now,” he said, because it was true. He didn’t feel lacking. 

She tilted the mic towards Joe. “And you?” 

Joe looked at Nick, grinning, and replied, “What he said,” and the woman laughed. 

—

Their lives were pretty demanding right then, more interviews and back-to-back shows and traveling. It wore them out good. They finally got a night where they’d be able to sleep in the next morning and Nick was looking forward to it. He was feeling weird, kind of homesick, and he wanted to sleep it off, already tucked in by the time Joe finished getting ready for bed. 

Joe came over in just his boxer-briefs and threw Nick’s blankets aside, kneed up onto the mattress so he could straddle Nick’s hips. Nick didn’t know where to put his hands. 

“You’re on my side of the bed,” Joe said. He was smirking down at Nick, bathed in the lamplight. Nick found himself staring. 

Nick knew Joe was good-looking, but it wasn’t something he thought about often, so accustomed to seeing his stupid face. It still struck him sometimes, though, how attractive his brother was. Even now, with dark smudges of sleeplessness under Joe’s eyes, the exhaustion showing through. Nick looked up at him, the curves of Joe’s shoulders bare, his hair dark against the white of the walls behind him. Joe was smiling down at him, sitting back and letting him look. Nick’s eyes traced the line of Joe’s throat and the angle of his jawline, studied his face. He could pick out all the features they shared, same shape to his eyes as Nick’s, same nose, same generous give of his mouth. But it wasn’t those similarities that made Joe’s face more familiar to Nick than anyone’s ever would be. 

“Nicholas,” Joe said so fondly that it made Nick’s chest hurt a little, hitching with his breath. 

His feelings for Joe were so strong anyway, they didn’t need to add _this_ to everything, whatever it was. It was too much. 

His voice cracked when he said, “Joe,” barely above a whisper. 

Joe’s face softened and he leaned in, saying, “Hey, it’s okay. We can just sleep, all right?”

He set his mouth to Nick’s, laid shallow little kisses there while Nick shut his eyes tight and dug his blunt fingers into Joe’s shoulders, kissing back lightly.

“It’s okay,” Joe whispered again, lips brushing against Nick’s. 

—

Nick was feeling better the next morning even though Joe had stolen most of the blankets to tangle himself into a cocoon, his face buried against Nick’s shoulder. 

They had the day free so they all went out, got lunch together and checked out some of the places around the city. 

Joe was in a good mood too, sort of manic with energy, hanging all over Nick one second and getting distracted by something else the next. He saw a coat that he liked, so Nick got it for him when Joe wasn’t paying attention. Nick had bought plenty of things for him before, but Joe made a big deal about it, gleeful and smug, saying Nick didn’t have to sweeten him up like that when no one else was around to hear and it made Nick’s skin prickle with heat. 

Back in their van, Joe leaned his head on their mom’s shoulder and said, “I am beat,” and Mom went _awww_ and patted him on the arm, but Nick could tell Joe wasn’t tired. 

In the elevator back up to their hotel room, Joe got close, conspiratorial.

“Did you sleep okay last night?” he said, which was an odd question to ask right then. “Feeling good today?” 

“Yeah,” Nick said, and Joe smiled all slow and secret. 

—

Joe's mouth was soft and insistent against his, sucking at his bottom lip and _biting_ a little, gently, slicking his tongue into him. 

They hadn’t been back in their room for long when Joe went playful, wrestled him flat onto the floor and just held over him. Nick had said, “Uh,” dumbly, and Joe had mumbled back, “If you won’t, I have to,” and kissed him.

Nick let it happen, just a quick one on the mouth at first, and he’d been stupid to think it would stop there. Give Joe an inch and he’d take several thousand miles. 

If Joe would just back off for a second, maybe Nick could think, focus on anything beyond Joe’s mouth on his, Joe’s hands on his shoulders holding him down, his own cock awake and aching in his jeans. 

Nick was pretty sure it wasn’t supposed to feel this good, kissing his brother. 

Joe finally did pull away and his mouth was all swollen and wet and the way he was looking down at Nick, it was— well, Nick didn’t know how to categorize that.

“See, I told you,” Joe said, voice gone low. His hand rubbed at Nick’s arm and squeezed restlessly at his bicep. 

Joe started kissing him again and eased himself down, slowly brought their lower bodies into contact. Nick whimpered, feeling Joe’s dick pressed hard against his through the denim of their jeans. Their kisses went uncoordinated, trying to get used to it, Joe riding his hips against Nick’s in unsteady little thrusts. 

Nick rutted up, instinctive, and it made Joe’s mouth stutter off his, moaning. Joe was trembling, his face pink, and when he fucked against Nick again, Nick couldn’t take it, overwhelmed. He grasped a shaky hand at Joe’s hip, held him away. 

“Don’t be like that,” Joe said, trying to fit their bodies together again, but Nick wouldn’t let him. Joe made an upset sound, started undoing the fly of his own jeans, and Nick’s hand fell away as Joe shoved his jeans down his hips. Joe’s dick was bare and Nick hardly got a look at him before Joe wrapped his hand around it, started stroking while Nick watched. 

“Wanna kiss you,” Joe breathed, all strained and strung out. He took Nick’s mouth again, groaning as he got his tongue into Nick. 

Nick’s mind was stuck on the fact that Joe was jerking off while he was kissing Nick and all Nick wanted right then was to be able to come. He started pulling at his own fly, yanking it open so he could slip his hand in and get it around his dick. He reflexively sucked on Joe’s tongue at the feeling of the first few strokes and Joe muffled a sound against his mouth before he broke away. 

“God,” Joe muttered, voice tight. 

They were both breathing so loud, heavy. Nick looked down between them while he had a chance, saw that Joe was just holding himself, hand flexing in little squeezes around his dick, wet at the slit. 

Joe looked down too, noticing that Nick had his hand in his briefs, front of them stretched out as he touched. 

“Let me see,” Joe demanded, reaching for the waistband. 

Nick shook his head no and Joe’s brow crumpled, taking his hand away, watching where Nick fisted his dick even though Joe couldn’t see anything. 

“God, _Nick_ ,” Joe said, starting to stroke himself off again at the same rhythm Nick was. He leaned back in, put his mouth to Nick’s, but they weren’t at it very long before they were just panting together, too far gone to really kiss. 

Joe came first, touching his forehead to Nick’s and closing his eyes tight, spilling warm all over Nick’s stomach. Nick followed right after, soaking the front of his briefs, cock pulsing wet in his grasp. 

—

It happened a couple more times like that, right before they went to bed, and each time they could barely stop kissing long enough to get themselves cleaned up and go to sleep. 

Joe seemed completely blissed out about the whole set-up, but it worried Nick, how strong the impulse was now that they’d gone through with it. The temptation was huge, being able to have that whenever he wanted, knowing he could have more. He could see it getting out of hand really fast if he wasn’t careful. 

—

They went to dinner one night at Nick’s suggestion, just the two of them. 

Nick really wanted to drive one of the cars available to them, but he knew it wasn’t really safe to go without someone from security. It was probably for the best anyway, given that they couldn’t make up their minds about which place to eat. 

They finally found somewhere and, as Joe was getting out the SUV, he tripped a little and wrapped his hand around Nick’s elbow for balance. He just kind of kept his hand there even after he got his feet under him, clutching at the arm of Nick’s jacket as they went inside. 

Joe had a thing about always trying new food when they were in different countries, even when it was a place they’d visited before. Nick had to stop him this time by ordering for him. 

“Way to butcher the language,” Joe told him after the server walked away. 

“Wow, ungrateful,” Nick complained. “I just saved you the trouble of ordering.” 

“My hero,” Joe said, and he reached under the table to squeeze at Nick’s knee. 

Nick jumped, yelped a little, undignified. 

Joe tried to hide his smile behind his glass as he took a sip of water. 

—

They got back to their room and settled in for the night like they usually did and had always done. But Nick could feel them gravitating towards one another, both of them thinking about it and being pretty obvious. 

They finally goaded each other into it, in Joe’s bed while the TV droned useless in the background. Nick let them take their pants off, which wasn’t something they’d done before. He ended up on top, between Joe’s spread legs, moving together as they kissed, working themselves up. 

They broke apart after a while, just needing to breathe, but when Nick tried to go back in, Joe stopped him with a hand on his chest, panting. He had his lower lip tucked between his teeth and his brows furrowed together, staring between them. Nick glanced down too and caught on to what Joe was looking at. 

There was a dark spot of pre-come at the front of Nick’s shorts, dampness he’d been able to feel as they were kissing, building up and then sinking into the fabric. 

“You get so wet,” Joe said, mouth pretty and used-looking. “Is it always like that for you?” 

“Sometimes,” Nick admitted, words pushed out hard with the heaving of his chest. “Last few times we… whatever, it was like that.” 

Joe let out a humming little sigh. “Can I see this time?” 

Nick wet his throat, swallowing against that nervous, keyed-up feeling he got high in his chest when they did anything like this. He couldn’t ever back off once they got this far. 

Nick reared back, hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and hitched them down, kicked them off his legs. He braced himself over Joe again and his dick swayed under its own weight, flushed dark. It was so slick at the head, shining and messy. 

Joe whispered his name, breathing gone heavy. 

He couldn’t look Joe in the eye, face hot with knowledge that Joe could see just how much Joe got to him. 

Nick reached down to wrap a hand around his own dick, just under the head. He felt swollen, filled out stiff and too hot beneath tender skin. He worked himself a little, just squeezing, rough fingers rubbing good and tight around the shaft. They both watched as more wetness pushed out the slit, a clear drop of it welling up and dripping slow onto the front of Joe’s boxer-briefs right where the bulge of his cock was outlined. The string of it clung and broke, soaking into the cotton. 

“Nick. Let me take mine off too,” Joe said, pleading. He shoved a hand down the front of his shorts, knuckles visible under the fabric. “Rub off on me, let me feel it,” he rambled on, words crowded together. 

Joe was actually waiting for him this time, leaving it entirely up to Nick. He could say no, he _should_ say no, but Joe had already put the image in his head. 

He said yes and Joe echoed it back at him, drawing it out as he got his own shorts down and off. Both of them bared, Joe tugged Nick down by the hip just as Nick was lowering himself and they ended up pressed together awkwardly, first-time skin on skin making them hiss. 

Nick was surprised how it felt, being naked like that, how smooth their skin was sliding together, overheated, moving against each other natural but clumsy. 

Joe was still watching—they both were—as the head of Nick’s cock slipped against his, leaving Joe’s dick wet. Joe swore under his breath seeing it, rutting up against him just right and making Nick gasp, another fat drop of pre-come smearing onto Joe’s skin. 

—

Somehow, somewhere along the way, Joe realized that the easiest way for him to get this from Nick was to ask for it, let Nick know how much he wanted it. That way it wasn’t about Nick giving in, it was about what he was allowing Joe to have. There was still this contrary, little brother instinct in Nick to resist if Joe just tried to _take_ , all of that getting mixed up with his natural inclination to be in charge. So now they’d ended up like this, because Joe wasn’t too proud to beg, not when it came to this, and Nick needed to withhold, even if only for a minute or two. 

Nick wasn’t sure how Joe had figured all of this out before he did.

—

A few cities later, they had half a day to themselves and Joe used it to go shopping while Nick stayed in their room and worked on a few things, idly trying to figure out what he wanted to do later that night, wanting to take advantage of some rare free time. He really wanted to see a movie but he didn’t feel like dealing with everything that went along with going out. 

He gazed unseeingly at the wall across the room as he thought about it and when his eyes came back into focus, it occurred to him that maybe they could just watch a movie without going anywhere. 

 

An hour later, Joe was still out and Kevin was in their room, staring at a little portable projection system. 

“They keep these at the hotel?” 

“Yeah, for conferences and stuff,” Nick said. 

“Uh huh,” Kevin said. “And you wanna do what with it?” 

“Watch a movie. Can you help me figure out how to hook it up?” 

“There’s a television over there,” Kevin pointed out, hand cupped around his mouth like the TV might hear him or something. 

“Yeah, but this will be better,” Nick explained. “This will be awesome.” 

It took them a while to set it up because Kevin spent more time talking than anything else, but it was all right. Nick hardly ever got to hang out with him anymore, with all the planning he was doing for his side project and the extra time he was spending with Joe and with Kevin always on the phone with Danielle discussing wedding plans. 

 

Joe got back a little while later, when it was nearly dark and Kevin had already taken off. 

Nick had put the movie on to make sure it would work, menu music now soft and looping. He got up from where he’d been sitting under lamplight on the other side of the room, looking over some songs. 

Joe dropped his bags when he saw that one of the walls had been taken up with the frame of the movie. He walked over slowly. 

It occurred to Nick then that Joe might think it was lame. He hadn’t really considered that before. For some reason it was kind of important that Joe like this even though it wasn’t that big a deal. 

Joe lingered in front of the path of projection and it left him cast in the light of it, washed over with translucent blues. 

“You did this?” Joe asked. 

“Yeah,” Nick said. “Well, Kevin helped.” 

Joe broke into a grin, big and honest. “Let’s watch.” 

 

They piled together on the couch Nick had pushed to the middle of the room and watched, shifting beam of light hovering above their heads. 

Joe was restless during the movie, kept inching closer and closer until Nick eventually had to put his arm along the back of the couch to make room for Joe snugged up against his side. 

“It’s like a drive-in,” Joe said. 

“Drive-ins are outside,” Nick pointed out. 

“Yeah, but it’s still sort of like that.” 

Nick opened his mouth to argue but Joe was turning his face against Nick’s neck, breathing hot there, and all Nick could say was, “Yeah,” his hand coming up to hold Joe’s shoulder. “I’m glad you like it.” 

“Me too,” Joe said, even though that didn’t really make sense. His lips parted against the sensitive skin of Nick’s throat, tongue swiping out in a tease. 

Nick went on edge right away, suddenly too aware of his body, hand tightening on Joe’s shoulder. 

Joe just sucked at Nick’s skin a little and Nick squirmed, had to pull one-handed at the leg of his jeans to make room for the way his cock was starting to thicken up. 

Nick inhaled sharply when Joe bit gently at him, drag of teeth ending with a little nip that Joe soothed at with his tongue, mouth soft again, breathing audible. His hand was on Nick’s leg, cupping at his thigh and slowly creeping higher. 

Joe was running on impulse the way he always did, uninhibited, and it was making Nick feel out of control too, his body reacting too easily to what Joe was doing. 

Joe’s fingers rubbed right over the tight swell of Nick’s erection and it punched a breath out of Nick, made him hunch over a little. Joe pretended it was an accident, detouring for the top button of Nick’s jeans. His hand stilled there and he stopped mouthing at his neck, nuzzling. 

“Can I?” he asked, but it was just an act, going ahead with it whether he had permission or not, all impatience and no restraint. 

He started thumbing the button open, sucking hard at Nick’s throat again. He was going to leave a mark if he wasn’t careful. Nick had to stop him, got his hand in Joe’s thick hair and gently pulled him away so he could look at Joe’s face. 

“You need to slow down,” Nick said. 

Joe blinked, dazed-looking, but he nodded, throat bobbing as he swallowed. 

Nick kept Joe still as he ducked in and kissed him. It was the first time he’d been the one to initiate and Joe’s hands grasped at Nick’s shirt like he was worried he might pull away. Joe went passive for it when Nick teased at his lower lip with his teeth so that it went swollen and tight, slippery when he pushed his tongue into Joe’s mouth. 

Nick tried to get his own jeans undone at the same time, but he couldn’t, too distracted by Joe’s mouth. He had to pull away and look down, work at each button with thick fingers while Joe muttered, “Come on.” 

He finally got his jeans open, down just a little and loose enough that he could get his dick out. He held it, skin smooth over all that heat and stiffness. He wanted to rub it all out, but he kept himself from it for now. 

Joe was looking down at Nick’s dick and Nick couldn’t get at his mouth, so he kissed where he could, mouthing at Joe’s jawline, sucking at his earlobe, listening to Joe gasp. 

And then Joe was gone, sliding to the floor and pushing between Nick’s knees. 

“Are you gonna let me?” Joe asked, and Nick was slow at first, not catching on. 

“What?” Nick said numbly.

Joe’s mouth was right there, near enough that he could probably smell Nick, the wet welling up at the tip of his cock, slickness that Nick could smear across Joe’s mouth if he wanted to, he was so close. 

Joe grabbed Nick’s hand and put it on the back of his head, saying, “Make me do it.” 

“Oh, God,” Nick said quietly. His hand fisted in Joe’s hair, almost involuntary. “You want to?” he asked, disbelieving. 

“Yeah,” Joe breathed, like the idea was getting him hot. 

Part of him wanted to see what would happen, didn’t think Joe would go through with it, but at the same time, Nick was scared that he might actually do it. This seemed like going too far, letting his big brother suck him off. 

Nick made a low sound in his chest, apprehension making his palms sweat and dampening Joe’s hair, but he knew was going to do it even as the nervousness kicked in. 

“Go ahead,” Nick said, fist around the base of his prick, angled towards Joe. “Go—down,” he said, quieter, pushing at Joe’s head. “Slow.” 

Joe went with it, mouth opening around Nick’s cockhead, tongue laving out at the slit as his lips closed around it and eased further down, taking him in. 

Joe was so hot inside, soft, his mouth was flushed wet, all that spit-slick making him go down too fast when Nick pushed at the back of Joe’s head a little more. Nick slid deep into him, touched at the soft place at the back of Joe’s throat, felt the moan that was there. 

It surprised Nick, made him grunt hard and pull Joe off him so he could try to get his bearings. 

“Okay?” Nick asked, unsteady. 

Joe nodded, thick hair tugging in Nick’s grip. His eyes were all low-lidded, mouth already reddened. Nick guided that mouth back onto his cock, had it sinking down onto him, trying to rein it in this time. His other hand came up to grab Joe’s shoulder, fingers getting caught up in his shirt collar. 

Nick found a rhythm and kept it, guiding the bob of Joe’s mouth on him, and Joe let it happen, going as deep as Nick made him. Each time Joe’s mouth tightened on him, sucking, Nick’s body flexed up like it was too much, muscles tautening, his toes curling so hard that his feet were nearly cramped up with it. 

Nick could feel his eyes going thinned out, focused, trying not to lose it. 

Joe’s hand grasped hard at his leg, just above the knee, and it made Nick look away from where Joe’s mouth was wrapped around him. He saw Joe’s shoulder moving, muscle shifting and bunching, and he realized Joe had gotten his jeans undone, started fisting his own cock while Nick used his mouth to get off. 

He said Joe’s name, knocked out of him on a gasp. It was going to be over in a second, pleasure too big in Nick. 

His hips rocked up, seeking, and his hand urged Joe faster. Joe groaned on him, sucking harder and Nick came like that, his dick in Joe, slicking up the inside of Joe’s mouth. Joe worked him through it sloppily, pulling the orgasm from him and swallowing it all. 

Joe let Nick slip from his mouth and Nick pulled his pants back into place as quickly as his body would let him, limbs weighed down with the satiety, not quite cooperating at first. 

Joe stayed between Nick’s spread legs, head bowed over Nick’s lap, still working his own dick. 

“Joe, come up here,” Nick said heavily. “I’ll help—” 

He stopped, pulled in a steep breath when Joe turned his head and bit Nick’s leg through his jeans, halfway up his thigh, a sharp little dig into the softness there. Joe was coming, moaning as he bit down, free hand wringing tight at Nick’s other leg. 

After a moment, Joe’s panting mouth went loose and drew away. He sat back and tucked himself away, jeans left unbuttoned, and then he peeled off his overshirt and wiped his hand off with it. 

Joe got up and in between him and the back of the couch, draped himself along Nick’s side, head on his shoulder. They were both still overheated and clammy with sweat, but Nick’s arm kind of wrapped around him intuitively, and Joe made a happy little sound when Nick started rubbing at his back.

 

Nick awoke in the middle of the night to the looping audio of the DVD menu and he had to wriggle out from under Joe to turn it off. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to keep letting Joe sleep on the couch or try to coax him into a bed, but he didn’t have to decide. Joe woke up anyway and groggily pulled Nick into bed with him. 

—

There was a bruise on Nick’s thigh the next day, right where Joe bit him. He kept thumbing at it through his jeans, feeling the ache bloom each time he pressed down and thinking about how he wanted to mark Joe up like that, knowing Joe would let him. 

—

It was starting to change them, Nick finally noticed one day. 

Joe stopped trying so hard to be provocative. He was only like that on occasion, sometimes quiet, sometimes showy, but when he wanted a reaction he really went for it, a need that seemed to come and go with him and made Nick joke about middle child syndrome even though he was a middle child too. 

It wasn’t that Joe was subdued—he didn’t _want_ Joe subdued—but he was a little different. He still pointedly peeled off layers of his clothes on stage and tried to one-up people’s jokes, but he was less restless now, didn’t try so hard for Nick’s attention because he knew he’d be getting it later. 

And, yeah, it was working out well for Nick, too. Each time he told Joe what to do and Joe went with it, the knot of panic in Nick’s chest loosened a little bit, made him feel like he had the situation under control. 

They acknowledged it all the time, the way Nick was, but they never really talked about it. Nick had expected something else, maybe for Joe to call him a control freak and a tyrant and laugh at him for wanting it like this. He never did though. Joe just gave into it happily. 

It wasn’t long after the first few times that it started to grow into something more than just a way for Nick to cope with how Joe made him feel. 

—

There was an issue with the sound one night, right in the middle of their show. 

They started playing and the vocals were supposed to kick in, but when Nick started singing, he realized his mic wasn’t working even though it had been just minutes before. They had to stop playing and find out what was going on. 

It took them maybe ten minutes to figure out what happened and it was all really unfortunate and really avoidable. They stepped it up for the rest of the show to compensate, but Nick was not happy. 

On the ride back to the hotel, he thought about how he could have prevented it from happening, getting someone to double-check it before the show even though that was the last thing he was supposed to worry about. 

Sometimes he wished it wasn’t so overwhelming, the drive to get things just right and have everything go exactly how he thought they should. Most of the time it worked out for him, made him better, got him what he wanted, but there were occasions where it was almost self-defeating, being too hard on himself over things that were out of his control. 

“It’s not a big deal, I promise. We gave ‘em a good show,” Joe said. “A little sound glitch is not going to be what they think about when they remember it.” 

Nick wasn’t sure how accurate that second part was. “Yeah,” he said, just so Joe wouldn’t think he was sulking. 

Joe and Kevin gamely tried to bring him out of it but soon gave up, and after that Joe just hovered, probably thinking something else was off, affecting Nick’s mood. 

But Nick felt fine physically, even though he was still bothered about the whole thing the next morning, standing in the bathroom with Joe. He watched Joe get ready in the mirror, some of those half-formed thoughts he had about Joe sometimes taking a shape less vague. 

Nick splashed some cold water on his face, feeling his skin starting to go hot. 

Joe was fussing with his hair when Nick wiped off his face on a towel and said, “I need you to do something for me.” 

“Sure,” Joe said, not taking his eyes off his own reflection. 

Nick took a breath, let it out slow. “I want you to go a few days without jerking off.” 

Joe’s hand stilled, slowly dropped to his side. He looked at Nick in the mirror, eyes hot, amusement threatening to show itself as obvious as the sudden blush in his cheeks. He still wasn’t used to Nick talking like this.

“For how long?” he asked, fake-casual. 

Nick shrugged. “’Til I say.” He threw the towel onto the counter. “Can you do that for me?” 

“Yeah, I can do that.” 

“Good,” Nick said, and they both went back to getting ready. 

It was weird, but Nick already felt a little better. 

 

The first and second days were easy, but Joe was getting fidgety by the third day, tapping his fingers more than usual and bouncing his knee so much that Nick had to tell him to stop. Joe always did. 

Nick found himself touching Joe more that week. Not really trying to tease, just reassuring, proud of him for holding out. He would come up behind a chair Joe was sitting in and wrap his hand around the back of Joe’s collar and Joe would duck his head, baring more skin to him. Nick would let his fingers graze there, the both of them knowing. 

On the fourth night, Nick decided not to get himself off in the shower like he usually did. He waited until he and Joe were both in their own beds and the lights were off and then he pushed the covers down, pushed down his pajama pants. 

By the time Nick started to really work himself over, Joe had caught on, whispering, “Nick,” into the space between them. 

It wasn’t like Joe hadn’t heard him before, but it made Nick’s cock jerk in his fist, knowing that Joe wasn’t allowed, going all boned up in his shorts and not able to do anything about it. 

“ _Joe_ ,” Nick grunted without meaning to, face burning, but it made Joe groan in frustration and Nick stifled another noise, biting his bottom lip, hand going faster. 

Nick was surprised how soon he came, hitting him full-body, like he was the one who’d been holding out. Even above his own harsh breathing, he could hear Joe mumbling, “Nick, god.” 

Nick cleaned up with his t-shirt and tossed it aside, feeling good as he settled onto his side to sleep. He could make out the shape of Joe in darkness, could just see Joe turn over onto his stomach, whining softly as his hips shifted against the bed. 

 

The next day, Joe kept getting half-hard. At one point it was really obvious and Nick had to take off his coat, throw it over Joe’s arm and make him hold it in front of him. 

That night when they got back to the room, Nick said, “Take off your shoes.” Joe started toeing them off without a second thought, but he didn’t really get it until Nick said, “Get on the bed.” 

“Finally,” Joe said, body going slack with relief as he sat down on the edge of the mattress. 

“Shhh,” Nick told him. “Lay down.” 

Joe spread out, put his head on the pillow and waited while Nick kneed up onto the bed and settled between Joe’s legs. He rubbed his hands up and down Joe’s thighs, feeling the denim again his skin and watching Joe’s dick already start to prick up beneath the fly. 

He unbuttoned Joe’s jeans and made Joe lift his ass for a second so he could pull them down his hips, leaving Joe exposed. 

Nick ignored Joe’s dick, went for his balls and cupped them in his hand, heavier than usual, feeling full when Nick squeezed at them. 

Joe breathed out a little sound when he did that, his hand restless on his own stomach, pushing up his shirt some and then edging towards his dick like he was going to touch. It was fattening up fast, dark, like it was straining for his hand. 

“Put your hands down,” Nick said, and Joe put his hands on the bed next to his hips. 

Nick leaned in and took Joe into his mouth. 

He’d never considered doing that to someone—a _guy_ —before all of this, but Joe did it for him, so Nick was going to reciprocate. Eventually. For now he just got used to having Joe in his mouth, testing suction, took him deep as he could and got Joe’s dick good and wet while Joe said his name and clenched his hands in the sheets. 

It made Nick’s face heat up, feeling just how hard Joe was getting, feeling his own lips wrapped plush around that. 

When Nick pulled away, Joe looked so upset that Nick almost laughed.

“Wha- why?” Joe stammered. “Don’t _stop_.” 

Joe shut up, his whole body tensing up just as Nick started jerking him off. His hand moved easy, wet-sounding from where he’d left Joe’s cock all spit-slick, and he stroked tight and fast instead of easing Joe into it, forcing too much sensation on him too quick after nearly a week of nothing. 

“Ohhh,” Joe said quietly, mouth dropped open, brows pulling together. His chest was heaving, pulling in long breaths that built up to steady panting. 

Nick got nearer, until his thighs were under Joe and Joe’s legs were spread around his hips, Nick’s dick pressed against Joe’s ass through his jeans. He braced himself over Joe with his free hand, breathing each other’s air as they watched what Nick was doing, the new angle making it easier for him to go faster. He wished Joe had taken his shirt off because he liked being able to watch how Joe pinked up, skin washing over with color the closer he got. 

Nick waited until Joe looked like he was about to finish off and then he stopped, watching the confusion register on Joe’s face, listening to him huff in frustration. He kissed Joe’s mouth and started working his cock again, just as quick as before. Joe kissed back for as long as he could, wet and open, but he had to pull away from Nick after a minute, mouth going slack. 

“Tell me when you’re about to,” Nick said. 

“I’m about to,” Joe panted back immediately. 

Nick stilled his hand, just as abrupt. 

Joe whined, head pushing back into the pillow, cheeks reddening. “You’re doing it on purpose now,” he said. 

“Just wait for it. I’ve done this to myself before, after waiting a few days,” Nick admitted. “It’ll be worth it.” 

He did it a few more times, letting Joe get just close enough and then pulling him back from the edge, making Joe whimper with it. Nick let it build up, thought about Joe’s balls drawing up full and tight, ready to unload but not being allowed to, getting a little more backed up with it each time. 

Finally Joe said, “Please let me,” plaintive and uneven.

He was sweating all over by then and Nick was too, even though it felt like his body heat was all between his legs, in his dick, just from being able to do this to someone else, to _Joe_. 

Nick went for the finish and his arm was cramping up from the rhythm, but he really wanted to see it, everything Joe had been saving up the past few days just because Nick told him to. 

Joe took in a few deep breaths that he let out on low, keening sounds and his body locked up, knees tightening against Nick’s sides, trying to keep his eyes open to watch as he came. The first shot arced up and caught on his throat, dripping and sliding under his collar. Nick was glad that he hadn’t tried to suck Joe off because there was a lot of it, the front of Joe’s shirt getting soaked with the rest of his load, long streaks of it. Joe was shaking by the time it was all out of him, louder than he usually was when he came, all these little noises moaned out. 

Nick pulled away from where he was bearing down on Joe and sat back, catching his breath though he wasn’t the one who’d just come that hard, cock still rigid and uncomfortable in his briefs. 

“Mmmh,” rumbled Joe hazily from the head of the bed after a quiet minute. “Come back, come up here.” His dick was still half-hard, lying against his stomach. 

Nick crawled back over him, held above Joe on his hands and knees. He was still a little blindsided by how much he liked being able to do this to Joe, having this kind of power over him. He didn’t want to give it up now that he had it, this need that had taken root, taking over and spreading out. 

“That was good,” Nick told him in an undertone, and Joe nodded, his expression clear and content now, body loose. He wrapped a hand around the back of Nick’s head, pulled him down into a kiss. 

—

In the last city of the tour, Joe was on-stage, talking about how good the last couple of months had been to them, how lucky they were. He smiled over at Nick and it was simple and bright, not complicated by all this new stuff between them. Nick smiled back. 

—

They were at home for a few days after that—their real home—and Nick was grateful for it, but being back in their old house made them regress a little, rowdy like kids, and coming right off the tour, Nick was still used to being cooped up with Joe and being careless. 

 

Joe was standing in the kitchen one morning and Nick came up behind him and smacked him hard on the ass. Joe turned around quick, blushy, mouth dropped open in surprise. Nick bit back a smile, bottom lip between his teeth, but then Joe’s expression faltered as he looked over Nick’s shoulder. 

“Nicholas,” their mom said, standing in the doorway and radiating disapproval. 

Joe snorted with laughter, but Nick went embarrassed, had a flash of wanting to take it out on Joe up in his room because he knew he could, but he shook it off, shoved at Joe and took it when Joe shoved him back, both of them laughing. 

—

They had dinner the next night and being home meant they were actually eating together for once like a normal family, gathered around the table. 

Joe was next to Nick, on his left side, their legs touching. When they all joined hands for grace, Joe interlaced his fingers with Nick’s instead of loosely clasping their hands together like he usually did, like everyone else was doing. 

Suddenly Nick felt obvious and out of place, going hot under his collar while their father prayed from the head of the table. 

—

Being home also meant that they could wander around a little more, leave the house without worrying. He and Joe went out late one night for a walk, restless, used to the excitement of performing nearly every night. 

The neighborhood seemed quieter than usual because of the holidays, like he and Joe were the only people in it. 

They somehow ended up at a school, the building squat and hulking and dark, but the back of it was lit with buzzing streetlights, illuminating the basketball court and everything around it. 

It was strange that this seemed kind of surreal to Nick. The way their life was now—hectic, punctuated by crowds and cameras—that was what felt normal to him. But this, sneaking out with his brother, standing next to him in an abandoned playground, it seemed weirdly nostalgic, like it shouldn’t really be happening. 

Joe climbed up on the monkey bars and walked longways along one of the rails while Nick cringed and held his breath, just waiting for him to fall. 

“Let’s climb onto the roof of the school,” Joe called down to Nick. 

“No.” 

“Let’s break into the gymnasium,” he said, over-enunciating every syllable of the last word. “We can steal a basketball and play some one-on-one.” 

“Hmmm, no.” 

Joe jumped down without incident and straightened up, saying, “Let’s go sit down over there and not commit any property damage,” and Nick said okay. 

They sat in a swing each, not moving, just hanging there next to each other, feet pushing around sand. 

“You’re going on tour soon,” Joe observed. 

“I am.” 

They’d talked about the solo tour a lot, the whole family had, but he and Joe hadn’t yet really discussed it in terms of what Joe would be doing, with Nick so busy getting it all sorted out with their dad and his stage manager and everything. The end of the year was sneaking up on them, fast approaching. 

“There’s something I think I wanna look into,” Joe said. 

“Yeah? What is it?” 

Joe shrugged. “Sort of this movie thing. But I don’t know.” 

Joe was indecisive when it came to the big picture, too laidback to be the obsessive planner that Nick was. Sometimes Nick worried that there wouldn’t ever be enough time for him to catch up to his own ambition and Joe would laugh and say, “Dude, you’re only _seventeen_ ,” so casual about stuff like that. 

“Why didn’t you tell me about it?” Nick asked. 

“I forgot,” Joe replied. “It’s not a big deal.” 

“It is a big deal. You should do it.” 

“It’s just. It’s soon,” Joe said. “While you’re on tour. Like, halfway through it.” 

Nick tilted his head, waiting. “Okay? And?” 

“I don’t know. The solo stuff is a big thing for you... and I can tell you’re really stressed about something when you try really hard not to seem like it. I thought I should keep my schedule open in case you needed me to show up one night. You know. Like, moral support.” 

“Joe, I already know you support me, I don’t need you to—whatever, sacrifice opportunities to show it.” Nick shook his head, smiling when he said, “You’re so weird.” 

Joe looked over, grinned at him kind of sheepishly. 

“We can meet up halfway if you want,” Nick insisted. 

“Is that what you think I should do?” Joe asked. 

“Yes. It’s what you want.” 

Joe looked away, his mouth twisted, but when he turned his head back towards Nick a minute later, his expression was smoothed out. “You’ll miss me bad,” Joe said. “How are you gonna handle that?” 

“I’ll get one of the guys to tell lame jokes all the time. It’ll be just like you’re there.” 

“He won’t be as good-looking as me.” 

Nick considered the guys in the new band. “Well, no.” 

Joe ducked his head, coy, sweet little curve to his mouth. Nick rolled his eyes, swung to the side, nudging Joe in the ribs with his elbow before swaying away, going still. Joe sidled closer to him, metal of their swings clinking together, keeping himself in Nick’s space by digging his feet into the sand. He wrapped his hand loosely around Nick’s where it was holding onto the chain. When Nick turned his head, Joe’s face was close, washed over in the dull shine of the lamplight. 

“A couple of weeks isn’t that long,” Joe said. 

“Right,” agreed Nick. They sat there, quiet for a moment, and then Nick said, “Let’s go back. We can at least climb onto the roof of our own house.” 

“Yeah, we can,” Joe said with enthusiasm. 

—

The day before they parted ways, Joe let Nick fuck him for the first time. 

They had the house to themselves and they were in Joe’s room, on Joe’s bed. 

Joe was on his back, one of his legs high up on Nick’s side, heel digging into Nick's lower back. Nick was trying to hold back the other leg, nearly had it pressed to Joe’s chest, while his other hand held his dick steady, nudging it at Joe, trying to get in. 

Nick couldn’t really see what he was doing, but he didn’t want to take the time to get Joe over on his stomach. 

Everything was so slippery that when Nick tried to ease in, the head of his cock just fit itself inside too fast. Nick’s mouth fell open and Joe made this sharp sound, surprised. 

Nick was vaguely aware that they shouldn’t be doing this and he couldn’t really understand why Joe was letting him, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. 

His hips pressed forward, following through with that first punch in, and he just settled inside sleekly, making a new space for himself inside Joe. Joe’s body took him like it was easy, letting him in and holding tight, but Joe was breathing like he was trying not to let the hurt get to him. 

Nick had thought he’d be ready for it, that he would know what to expect after having his fingers in Joe, working Joe open slow and clumsy. But nothing could have prepared him for getting in there with his dick, being completely sheathed inside Joe, alive with slick heat and flexing around him, smooth. 

He slumped over Joe, curls in his eyes, and slid out a little before shoving his hips right up against Joe’s ass again.

“Joe,” he moaned. “Tell me it’s okay.” 

“Yeah, you can,” Joe said, shivering. “It’s okay.” 

Nick went at it slow, trying to smooth it out, but his movements stayed rough and awkward, selfish. He couldn’t help it, too overtaken by the feeling of it to make it better. Nick realized that neither of them was in control of this, both of them whining these helpless noises and clutching at each other, going red-faced. 

Joe was suckling at his own bottom lip, face twisted up as he watched Nick with glassy eyes. He was half-hard. 

Nick really needed Joe to like this. 

“Touch,” Nick said. “Touch yourself.” 

Joe did, hand going tight and fast once he filled out the rest of the way. Nick still couldn’t tell if Joe would be able to get off on this, Joe’s face going closed off, eyes shut tight while Nick fucked into him. 

Nick’s muscles were straining from holding himself up over Joe, from holding back. He watched a drop of his sweat drip from the side of his face onto Joe’s collarbone and adjusted his grip on Joe’s leg, pushing it back further so that Joe’s ass was canted up, holding Joe up for his thrusts. The angle was different when Nick rutted in hard a few times, fast, wanting to let himself come. 

Joe’s eyes opened up like a realization then, his expression going dazed. “Oh, god,” he said haltingly, still stroking at his dick. 

And then Joe started to shoot off, sudden and sweet, body tightening up in pulses. Nick had to fuck through it to get all the way in again, crying out when those little pulses squeezed at his cock. 

Nick came then too, with his dick settled deep into his brother, orgasm shuddering through him in waves. It felt like his heartbeat was at the base of his cock, throbbing against the snug hold Joe’s body had on him there. 

 

Joe took a shower afterwards. Nick laid in his bed, still stunned that it’d happened even after it was over, and then everyone came back home and they had to go downstairs and act normal. He was sure that they could all tell just by looking at him, see it written all over his face. 

—

Nick was heading out, getting ready to leave for his tour and everyone was there to say good-bye. When it was Joe’s turn, he put his arms around Nick, slapping him on the back the way brothers are supposed to hug. It made Nick want to ask Joe to come with him, but he just hugged Joe back and walked away, feeling Joe’s eyes on him as he got into the car. 

 

At the airport, just before he was about to board the plane, Nick got a text message from Joe. 

_in the back of car by myself, kevin is making us listen to brad paisley & i’m sore_

The last two words made Nick blush. He could picture it, Joe tired and sitting alone in the backseat of the SUV, staring out the window with his sunglasses in place, bruised up under his clothes, aching from where he let his little brother fuck him the night before. 

Suddenly a few weeks seemed like a really long time. 

—

Nick loved touring on his own, it was just such a different experience. 

He tried getting used to being the sole focus onstage. His first few performances nearly made him sick with nerves, knowing that there was nobody else to distract everyone if he screwed up. Joe was the one who was good at that, making it seem like he didn’t care if something went wrong and having everyone love him for it. 

Nick got a little better at it though, got even more familiar with the guys in the band, and had a great time playing the new songs with them. _His_ songs. The audiences were smaller, but still good. It was pretty amazing. 

Making the transition from connecting with an entire crowd to sitting around sleeplessly in a room by himself wasn’t as easy as he’d thought it would be though. It was weird rooming alone for such a long stretch. Joe tended to make himself at home no matter where he went. Without him there, the hotel rooms sort of blended into one, comfortable but impersonal, nothing familiar in them. He’d gotten so used to having Joe with him, this constant presence, keeping Nick from getting too deep into his own thoughts. 

They talked on the phone a lot, but it wasn’t the same. 

“Now that you’re a big rock star, I have to really step it up,” Joe said one night. “So I was thinking, while you’re gone, I’ll just have sex with as many people as I can until a scandal breaks.” 

Nick knew it was a joke, but the last part made him feel a surge of something anyway, hot and unpleasant, surprised by his own reaction.

“Shut up,” he mumbled. 

He could practically hear Joe smirking at that. “So how was it with you and the New Power Generation tonight? Tell me about it.” 

“It was good. It was really good,” Nick said, and it had been, but the post-show adrenaline had dwindled away and now he was just in a strange mood, in bed by himself. 

“Living the dream, huh?” 

Nick could tell that Joe was only half-serious, if that, but he answered anyway.

“No, yeah, it’s great. We’re getting better everyday, I can’t wait ‘til you hear us for real again. I just.” There was a long pause where Nick didn’t say anything and neither did Joe, just breathing into the phone, waiting for Nick. “I just haven’t gotten much sleep lately, I guess,” Nick finally said. 

“Hmm,” mused Joe. “Me neither.” 

“Yeah.” 

A beat and then Joe said, “At least you get a room to yourself.” 

He could tell that Joe was fishing for Nick to tell him he missed him, because that was the kind of thing Joe did. And Nick did miss him, it was just that… before, they usually said it to each other all the time when they were apart, casual and straightforward. It felt more like a confession now. 

Nick turned off the light and rolled over, the right side of the bed an empty expanse of white even in the dark. 

“I miss you,” Nick said. 

“I miss you, too.” 

 

—

He started getting more text messages from Joe after that, pointless little updates, only half of which were probably true, like, _saw eva green today, she totally checked me out. too bad youre not here_ , and _just passed a van that had a painting of itself on the side_ and _told frankie he was adopted. he didnt care_. 

About a week into the tour, Joe sent him a picture of a condo. And then another, more pictures along with that, the interiors. 

_Didn’t know you were house hunting again…_ , Nick sent. 

Joe sent back, _thought it wouldnt be a bad idea_ , kind of cryptic. 

He didn’t think Joe was taking it very seriously at first, sending pictures of little oddities he found in the homes. One was a snapshot of a massive, creepy portrait of a solemn couple with their dog and a message that said, _realtor said i cant keep the picture if i buy the place. :( bummer_ , like Joe was just doing this as a way to amuse himself. 

But the next day it was more pictures of another place, and Nick could tell how much Joe liked it just by of the sheer amount of pictures he sent, including one of him giving an overenthusiastic thumbs up in a huge rec room, which Nick had to admit looked pretty appealing. 

Joe sent: _yes?_

Nick replied back with, _yes_. 

—

The night that Joe was supposed to meet up with him, Nick got a call. 

“My flight’s delayed,” Joe said as soon as Nick said hello. 

“Seriously?” 

“Yeah, maybe an hour or two. I don’t know.” Joe sounded as tired as Nick felt. “I’ll see you when I see you.” 

Nick sighed. “I’ll try to stay up.” 

He did try, even drank a few Red Bulls, but after taking a hot shower, he was just too worn out to keep his eyes open, heavy-limbed and run down. He called the front desk and told them to give Joe a key to his room and got in bed. 

 

He didn’t know how long he’d been out when he was woken up, roused from sleep as he felt the mattress shifting. Joe had crawled under the sheets with him, fitting his body to Nick’s, hugging him so hard that Nick couldn’t breathe for a second. 

“Hey,” Nick said, voice wrecked with sleep. He rolled over onto his side and hugged Joe back. 

Joe was in his shorts too, skin warm from a shower and breath like mint against Nick’s face. He put his hands on Nick, lingering over his bare sides and tracing the curve of his back and touching at Nick’s collarbone, like Joe was getting a feel for him, replacing memory with the real thing. 

He kissed Nick’s chin, the corner of his mouth, and Nick turned just far enough to fit them together, lips catching in a sleepy kiss that led to a few more before they both dozed off, heads on the same pillow. 

—

Nick woke up to the feeling of Joe mouthing wet at his shoulder, Joe’s arm around him and a hand down the front of Nick’s shorts, fingers wrapped around his hard-on, fist loose, pulling at him smoothly. 

He said Joe’s name and Joe’s hand tightened, tugged a noise of surprise out of Nick, cock going harder in Joe’s grip, pushing into it mindlessly. 

Nick was still half-asleep, but his nerves felt too awake. He pulled Joe’s hand away, out of his shorts. 

Joe started thrusting against his ass instead and Nick pulled in a breath, surprised that it felt so good. He tucked his face to the pillow and reached back to hold onto Joe’s hip, made Joe rut against him a little faster. 

Joe groaned and went for the waistband of Nick’s shorts again, trying to pull them down. 

“No, wait,” Nick whispered. “We should wait ‘til later,” 

Joe breathed humid against the back of his neck. “Why?” 

There was a sharp knock at the door and they both startled even though Joe always knew to throw the slide lock. 

“That’s why,” Nick said, and Joe made a disappointed sound. 

—

During the show that night, Joe watched from the wings. Nick could tell he was trying not to draw attention to himself, keeping low-key. After the set was over, Joe came up behind him backstage and grabbed his shoulders, jostling Nick so hard he almost stumbled over.

“That was awesome,” Joe exclaimed. “You didn’t look like you were going to hurl this time!” 

Then his arms wrapped around Nick’s waist, face tucked against Nick’s shoulder.

“I’m so proud of you,” he said in the sincere, unashamed way he said things like that, even when other people could hear. 

Nick felt his face flush over. He patted Joe’s forearm and mumbled his thanks. 

 

They all hung out for a while afterwards, back at the hotel, downstairs. 

Joe was happy and talkative, working his way into the band’s good graces even though he didn’t have to try all that hard and cheerfully making subtle attempts to annoy Nick, pulling at his dogtags and popping his knuckles next to Nick’s ear. Nick took the bait, playfully shoving Joe, shaking him, using it as an excuse to get his hands on him. Nick couldn’t stop smiling, feeling jittery and giddy.

Nick hadn’t realized how pent up he’d been until Joe was actually there, invading his space. 

He finally gave in, took them up to his room. Nick had spent weeks trying to get these guys to take him seriously, he wanted to get out of there before Joe started trying to put ice down the back of his shirt or something. And he’d only gotten about twenty waking minutes alone with Joe since he’d gotten there. It was easier to talk when they were by themselves, and not just because of the new secrets they were keeping. Their conversations were just different when they were around other people, filtered and kind of guarded. 

Joe wasn’t interested in talking though. 

 

“Joe,” Nick warned as Joe came up behind him while Nick was toeing off his shoes. Joe palmed at Nick’s stomach and started working the buttons open on Nick’s plaid shirt one-handed, pulling so hastily that one of them popped off and fell to the floor.

“Sorry,” Joe said next to Nick’s ear, mouth-breathing a little louder as his dick went half-hard against Nick’s ass.

Joe wouldn’t step away far enough to let Nick shrug the shirt off once it was unbuttoned. Instead Joe put his hands under the v-neck Nick was wearing beneath it, palms flat against Nick’s back, sliding his hands all the way up until they were rubbing at Nick’s broad shoulders. Both of Nick’s shirts were hiked up in back and Nick had no choice but to lift his arms and let them be peeled off, wondering if Joe had forgotten everything about Nick needing to decide for them.

Nick turned around, bare from the waist up. Joe reached up to pinch one of Nick’s nipples and Nick gasped and knocked Joe’s hand away, shoving Joe at the shoulder. He kept pushing, leading him until the backs of Joe’s legs hit the mattress. 

When Joe went down on his ass onto the bed, Nick just stood there for a second and looked down at him. He realized all over again that he could do what he wanted here, that Joe would let him. The knowledge of it went to Nick’s head a little. 

Joe started undoing his own fly and Nick said, “Stop,” just to watch Joe obey. Joe leaned back on his elbows, waiting, his dick obvious. 

Nick swallowed hard and knelt over him, started pulling at the button of Joe’s jeans, his actions getting more deliberate, knowing what he wanted to do.

He pulled Joe’s jeans off with his briefs, saw his cock bob up and settle against his stomach, dark and thick. 

Nick got his own jeans down and off with shaking hands, saying, “Get on your knees,”

Joe did, kneeing up onto the mattress, his head down.

Nick pushed unsure fingers down the cleft of Joe’s ass. “I want to do this again,” he confessed. His fingertips touched at Joe’s hole. “I, uh,” Nick stammered, realizing what he’d forgotten. “Where’s the…” 

Joe reached under a pillow, searching, and then handed a little bottle back to Nick. 

Nick looked down at it in his hand. “You—you can’t just leave this laying around.” 

“Who cares? No one even knows, come on,” Joe said, pushing his ass back at Nick.

One of Joe’s arms was holding himself up, but the other was underneath him, hand already around his cock, just holding. 

Nick fumbled the bottle open, getting wet all over his fingers.

“You’re so…” he trailed off, words getting lost for a second. He barely got the bottle capped before he let it fall to the bed, prodding at Joe again, slick this time. “You’re careless sometimes,” he finished lamely and pushed one finger into Joe all the way. 

Joe didn’t say anything, soft sounds held back as Nick stretched him with it, added another. 

Nick screwed his fingers into him, trying to do it how Joe had told him the first time, working him open. But it was different now because he knew what it was going to be like once he got inside. It made him go impatient, fucking Joe with his fingers. 

Joe whimpered, long and drawn out, breathy. “Do it already.” 

“It’ll hurt you,” Nick said. 

“Yeah,” Joe agreed. “Just put it in.”

Nick held Joe’s hip with slippery fingers and used his other hand to guide his dick inside. He shoved in too fast and it was as devastating as it had been the first time, nerves raw. It had them both groaning out, surprised sounding. 

Nick clutched at Joe and tried to pace it out, but it’d been too long. He could already feel himself getting close, even going unhurried this way, fluid movements of his hips drawing his dick out slow and slotting it back in. 

“Fast,” Joe said, tremulous. 

Nick’s eyes fell closed. “Joe, I can’t.” 

“Please. Just for a second.” 

One second was about all it was going to last, but Nick gave in anyway, fucked Joe faster. He couldn’t go quick without going hard too, didn’t know how to rein it in like that yet. 

Joe was getting louder, muffled against a pillow, and Nick thought he could feel Joe coming, but he was going too fast to tell, trembling on the cusp himself. 

Nick came with his body curved over Joe’s, limbs going weak, all sweat-sticky skin and heat. 

He reached around, felt Joe’s dick all wet, half-hard, already spent. 

“Oh,” Nick said, and Joe just hummed deep in his chest, content. 

 

They got in the shower, not doing much more than making out, the water hitting Nick’s back and sliding down his body in rivulets, his skin too hot. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” he told Joe quietly. Joe smirked and Nick had to add, “Not just because of the… what we just did.” 

Joe’s lips were still curved into a smile when he kissed Nick again, self-satisfied, but Joe pulled away after a minute or two and reached behind himself to touch, frowning.

“It’s weird,” he said when Nick noticed. 

Nick’s jaw clenched, thinking about his come inside Joe. “Turn around.” 

Joe faced the wall and Nick pushed his fingers down to feel at his hole, right where Joe was all swollen and hot, probably sore. Nick couldn’t stop touching, his own spunk slicking his skin. He got two fingers into him, wanting to see what it felt like from the inside. It wasn’t the same as the lubricant. His come felt a little different in Joe—clingier and smooth, even more slippery inside where he was squeezing at Nick’s fingers. 

Nick’s dick was filling out as he felt that, heavy rush of his blood leaving him tender and hot, going stiff too fast. 

Joe grunted when Nick took his fingers out.

“Just. Hold still,” Nick said. He pressed the head of his cock to Joe and steadied it in, slid all the way up into him in one thrust. 

“Nick,” Joe said under his breath, surprised. He groaned and pressed his forehead to his arm where it was braced against the shower wall. It was easier like that, Joe’s hips canted back. Helped Nick get in there deeper. 

He was dick-sore from pushing into Joe too fast earlier, going too hard, but it was almost better. It had to be like that for Joe too, edging on ache, and Nick saw the movements of Joe’s arm, realized he was stroking his own cock. Nick closed his eyes and rode his dick into Joe, concentrating on the sensation of it now that he’d gotten that first come out, wasn’t as desperate. It felt so good that his eyes went a little wet, too turned on. 

He could barely hear it above the sound of the shower when Joe’s breathing hitched, caught on the edge of a moan. 

“Are you gonna come?” Nick asked on one shaky exhale. 

Joe sighed out, “Yeah,” high and hard, voice tense. 

“Don’t,” Nick said. 

Joe moaned for real and his arm stopped moving, hand coming up flat against the wall. 

“No, keep—” Nick had to still himself, deep in Joe, his face pressed to Joe’s damp hair. Then he looked up again, grabbed Joe’s hand and pulled it back down. “Keep doing that, just don’t finish.” 

Joe was stroking himself again, slower, and whined in his throat when Nick started moving inside him. 

Nick went a little longer, just wanting to feel it while he could, but the slow build was getting to him. He finally settled in as deep as he could and went off good and slow and hard, mouth pressed wet to the nape of Joe’s neck. 

The withdrawal made them both suck in a breath through their teeth, too sensitive. 

Nick put two of his fingers back in Joe, felt all his come caught up inside his brother. He eased it out in slow strokes so Joe wouldn’t have to go to sleep with all of that slipping out of him. It slid down Nick’s fingers, dripped off his knuckles. 

 

They settled into bed and Nick got Joe off with his mouth for the first time. He thought it would be easier if Joe was already primed to get off quick, after being fucked. Nick couldn’t take him very fast or deep yet, but it didn’t matter. Joe shot off all over the inside of his mouth, fingers in Nick’s hair and breathing out his name reverently. 

—

Having Joe on the tour bus should have been the same as when they toured as a trio, but it wasn’t. This felt more like Joe was a guest or a groupie or something. Joe made a place for himself right away though.

Nick was already in bed one night, trying to force himself to sleep, earbuds in and music playing low. He’d almost drifted off when the curtain to his bunk was thrown back.

“Hey, Nick,” Joe said, standing there in his pajamas. 

Nick sat up a little when Joe started clambering in with him, over him, trying to get on his other side.

Nick took one of his earbuds out. "What’re you doing?” he said as quietly as he could. “We can't _do_ anything." 

Joe reached over to tug the curtain closed again and then settled in next to Nick, pulling the covers up. "I know."

"You can't sleep here."

"I know."

"Because someone'll come to make sure I'm awake in the morning," Nick said, but he went down when Joe pushed him flat again.

Joe rolled onto his side, body curved around Nick’s, saying, "I know."

"Can you say something besides 'I know'?"

"I don't know."

Nick snorted, rolled his eyes. He could feel Joe’s breath on his neck when Joe said, “Gimme,” and took the earbud from Nick’s hand, put it his own ear.

“Hmm, old school,” Joe mumbled, hearing Sam Cooke’s voice. After a second he said, “I’ll go back to my bunk before I fall asleep.”

“Don’t knee me on your way out.”

“Yes, sir,” Joe said softly.

Nick relaxed again, laid there in the dark with music in one ear and his brother whispering in the other. 

“We need to get you eating better,” Joe said, hand wandering over Nick’s torso. 

With everything else he had to worry about, Nick hadn’t been thinking much about food beyond what he needed to keep his levels right. 

“Yeah, I could use your help with that,” Nick admitted.

Joe nudged closer.

“Maybe you should set the alarm on your phone,” Nick said. “So you can go back in time.”

“That’ll just wake you up. Stop worrying about it.”

Nick fell asleep before he could make sure Joe got back to his own bunk.

—

Joe moved out of their parents’ house a few days after the tour ended. 

They helped Joe put all the little things in their places after the moving people got everything inside. It was still kind of empty and there was furniture that needed to be bought, but Joe was excited, talking about the plans he had for it all. Their mom tried to talk to him out of some of it, saying little flashy affectations were okay for clothes sometimes, but homes were different, and Joe pretended to agree. 

Nick stayed after everyone else left. He stood in the den and looked around, saw all of Joe’s stuff in this new space. Right then, it seemed like sort of a big deal even though Nick knew that it wasn’t. Joe would still come around to their parents’ house and Nick would stay at Joe’s—on the rare occasions that their lives would actually allow for them to be home. Everything was changing lately. Joe was moving out and Kevin was getting married and Nick was venturing on his own. But these were all good things. They weren’t growing apart, they were just growing up. 

It was late when they both piled onto Joe’s huge bed in the middle of the otherwise empty room. 

They fooled around slow and quiet, looking at one another in the fluorescent glow of streetlight filtering in from the hastily-covered windows, and then they tangled up in each other and talked. 

It was like it always had been, just like when they were younger. Joe would whisper all these big, impossible ideas, joking around, stories about him and Nick taking over the world. Then Nick would tell his, more serious, dreams ever-evolving to fit their future. Always, Joe would take his turn again, a bit more real this time, insinuating himself into all the empty little spaces purposely left open in Nick’s plans, talking until his words slurred together with sleep and gave way to deep, even breaths.


End file.
